


The Cold Don't Last Forever

by Julie Lewis (RokofAges75)



Category: Backstreet Boys
Genre: Comedy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RokofAges75/pseuds/Julie%20Lewis
Summary: Nick ski trip with Lauren takes a tragic turn.One of1000 Ways to Kill Nick Carter
Relationships: Nick Carter/Lauren Kitt Carter
Kudos: 1
Collections: 1000 Ways to Kill Nick Carter





	The Cold Don't Last Forever

_Whoosh!_ Lauren skidded to a stop, spraying snow everywhere, and pushed her goggles up over her ski hat. “Phew!” she panted, doubling over to catch her breath. “That was a good run, huh?” She looked up at Nick, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion. “You ready to call it a day?”

Nick eyed the slope they’d just skied down and then turned his head in the other direction, looking toward the resort lodge. The sky behind it was steel gray and getting darker by the minute, but he said, “Aw, c’mon, let’s do one more. We’ve been on the bunny slopes all day; I wanna try one of the harder trails.”

Nick was _not_ a skier; in fact, it had been all Lauren’s idea to go skiing for the weekend. She had grown up skiing with her parents, and he knew she had to be getting bored of the bunny slopes, but she’d stuck by him all day, helping him learn the basics. He thought he’d gotten the hang of it pretty quickly; he hadn’t fallen on his butt at all in the last three runs. He was ready for a challenge and knew she’d jump at the chance to go down a steeper hill before they headed home.

Sure enough, Lauren smiled and said, “Well, okay… if you’re sure you want to. Just one more.”

“One more,” Nick agreed, and they stomped over to get on one of the ski lifts. Nick was happy to see that, for the first time all day, there was no one in line, until the lift operator hooked a chain across the entrance, blocking it off.

“Sorry,” he said, when he saw Nick and Lauren approaching. “We’re shutting down. Snowstorm on the way.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the darkening sky.

“We just wanted to do one more run,” said Nick. “Any way you could let us on?”

“Please?” begged Lauren, batting her eyelashes and giving the guy her more irresistible puppy-dog face.

The guy heaved a sigh and took a glance up the mountain. Nick’s eyes followed; he saw the that lift was still moving, so there must have been people riding it up, further ahead. “It’ll just take a few minutes,” he added. “C’mon, man, let us on. Last ones.” When the guy still didn’t look completely convinced, he fished his wallet out of the back of his snow pants and offered him a crisp twenty dollar bill. “For your extra time.”

“Alright, alright.” The operator rolled his eyes, but accepted the twenty, stuffing it into his pocket. He unhooked the chain long enough to let Nick and Lauren through, then fastened it again behind them. The two of them scrambled onto the next chair to come around. “Better make it a quick run, though; weather’s gonna get bad,” he warned them, as they secured the safety bar over their laps.

“We will,” Lauren assured him. “Thanks.”

The guy just grunted in response, as the chair swung forward and slowly started to rise off the ground.

“They should make these things go faster,” Nick complained, as they rode up the mountain.

“Why, you worried about the weather, too?”

Nick snorted. “Psh, no. Just ‘cause they’d be more fun, then. Like a ride.”

“They are like a ride.”

“Yeah, but they’re like a Ferris wheel. It’d be better if they were like a rollercoaster. Like the Batman at Six Flags or something, you know?”

Lauren just laughed and shook her head.

“See, this thing’s too tame,” Nick said, leaning forward and then flinging himself backwards to make the chair rock.

“Nick, don’t.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s fun!”

“Yeah, it’s fun until you break the thing!”

“Chill; it ain’t gonna break. See?” He thrust himself forward and back again to rock the chair some more, only this time, the butt of his swishy snow pants slid on the icy metal chair, and as the chair tipped forward, he slipped right out from under the safety bar. “FUCK!” He made a mad grab for the bar, but it had pinned his forearms to his chest as his body went under it.

“NICK!” Lauren screamed, and he could feel her trying to hold him back, but before she could get a good grip on him through his layers of clothing, he slipped clear off the edge of the chair.  
For a second, he was freefalling, and the next thing he knew, he hit the ground hard, landing flat on his back with a sickening crunch.

But that wasn’t what killed him.

The impact knocked the wind right out of him, and the shock of it caused him to black out for a few seconds. It couldn’t have been long, because when he came to, he could still hear Lauren screaming, from somewhere above him, his name over and over again. “NICK! NICK! _NICK!_ ”

“Boosa?” he called weakly, still dazed.

“NICK?! Oh, thank God! Are you alright?!”

Still lying flat on the packed snow, Nick looked up. He could see the dark shadow of the chair over his head, the long thin silhouettes of Lauren’s skis gently swinging. He couldn’t see her at all; it was too dark, and she was too high. “I dunno!” he shouted back. “Hang on!” He wasn’t in any obvious pain, but he would have to see for himself. He struggled to sit up, but as soon as he tried to move, he felt it: excruciating pain, radiating from his back. It was enough to suck the breath right out of his lungs, and, gasping, he collapsed back down into the snow. “I think I’m hurt pretty bad, babe,” he said shakily, through shallow breaths.

“Don’t try to move!” Lauren’s voice called, from somewhere up ahead of him now. The chair was still moving further upward, without him in it. “Just stay where you are; I’ll get down as quick as I can and get you some help!”

“’Kay…” Nick closed his eyes; his head was spinning.

“I LOVE YOU!” were the last words he heard Lauren say, before the lift took her out of hearing range. He didn’t have the strength to shout them back to her.

 _She’ll be back soon,_ he thought. _She’ll bring help._ He would just have to lie there and wait for her; that was all.

If only it weren’t so cold…

He could feel the chill of the snow seeping through his heavy coat, and soon, he was shivering. His head was cold, his face was cold, his arms were cold… The only part of him that wasn’t cold were his legs, and at first, he thought it was just because of the thick snow pants, but it only took a matter of seconds for him to realize that he couldn’t seem to feel his legs at all.

Breathing fast, he tried again to sit up, fighting through the pain long enough to lift his head. He could see his skis sticking up, his feet splayed out awkwardly from the spread-eagle position in which he had landed. He tried to reposition them, but although he concentrated with every fiber of his being, his feet didn’t even twitch. _Oh my God,_ he thought, as panic set in. _I can’t move my legs… I’m a fucking paraplegic!_

But that wasn’t what killed him, either.

He tried not to hyperventilate, tried to keep himself calm, thinking things like, _Maybe I’ve just gone numb from the cold._ But he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew he had broken his back, damaged his spinal cord. _Maybe it’s just temporary. When they get me to a hospital, they’ll be able to do surgery or something to fix it._ He couldn’t imagine himself paralyzed.

As he lay there, contemplating life in a wheelchair, despite his best efforts to think positively, it started to snow. He could see the white flakes drift down from the dark sky, and at first, the sight was so pretty that it calmed him. The snowflakes were light as they landed on his face, but when the wind picked up, they fell with more intensity, stinging his skin. He started to panic again, shivering under the layer of snow that began to accumulate on his useless legs and torso.

Within minutes, his teeth were chattering so hard, he could barely concentrate enough to form a coherent thought, other than: _I feel so… c-cold._ It crossed his mind that hypothermia had to be setting in by now.

But that also wasn’t what killed him.

He lost track of time as the snowstorm raged around him, and the snow grew wet and heavy as it piled up on top of him. He tried to brush it off of himself, but he could only reach so far without sitting up, and it didn’t take long for the lower half of his body to become completely buried. Soon he couldn’t keep up with the snowfall, and it began to build on his chest, making him extremely claustrophobic. The snow seemed to push in on him from all sides, pressing down on his chest as if it were trying to suffocate him. His arms grew numb and heavy, and before long, they were pinned to his sides, useless under the weight of the snow. It continued to fall on his face, getting into his eyes, his mouth, his nose. He was drowning, literally drowning in snow.

But that still wasn’t what killed him.

He thrashed his head around as much as he could, trying to shake off the snow, but it was becoming difficult to breathe. He was going to be buried, buried alive, and he wondered, _How will Lauren find me again, if I’m covered in snow?_

His whole body was numb now, but still, he was so cold, so very cold, that he thought it might be a relief to give in to the snow, to let it bury him and block his lungs so that he would simply drift away to somewhere else, hopefully someplace warm.

He closed his eyes, imagining himself swimming in a warm sea, far away from this freezing cold mountain, free of the pain, free of the cold, free of the crushing weight of the snow. Weightless and free…

But he wasn’t lucky enough to succumb to unconsciousness so easily, or to die so peacefully.

Just as he was starting to fade away, the snow was brushed away from his face, and he felt something wet and _warm_ on his cheek. _Lauren?_ he thought hopefully and forced his eyes open.

But the face hovering a mere inch from his wasn’t his girlfriend’s.

In fact, it wasn’t even human.

His eyes, the only part of him still capable of movement, darted back and forth, taking in the mangy beige fur, the pointed teeth, the fierce yellow eyes. “Nice kitty,” he whispered, as the cougar licked some more snow off his face.

Then, in a flash of movement so quick, he never fully knew what hit him, the big cat pounced.

The last thing Nick felt, as it ripped out his throat, was pain, followed by warmth, as the blood poured from his torn jugular. The red snow would make it easier for Lauren to find him, when she made her way back up the mountain with the rescue medics.

The approaching sound of human voices scared off the cougar, who had just begun eating the frozen paraplegic. Denied of its tasty treat, it slunk back into the trees, but not before its prey had bled out.

That was what finally killed him, and for Nick, it was a relief.

As they say (or, in this case, sing), when the snow hits your skin, the cold don’t last forever… just until you’re dead.


End file.
